Closets
by Mary Sue Is Dead
Summary: "She deserves more…and I don't deserve to be with someone so beautiful…when all I can do is cower in the dark."
1. Part 1

**_Closets_**

_Written by MSID_

**_Part 1_**

**_XOXOX_**

Dust particles in the morning light. She had been watching them. A nauseous spinning behind her tired eye balls. How many times had she blinked? Was she blinking at all? Would all these dust particles float innocently through the air and eventually collect upon her blue eyes? She didn't know how long she had been lying there, turning into a dusty and inanimate centerpiece for her room.

She hadn't even said anything to anyone for the past five days. And all the thoughts in her mind had been sinking deeper into the waters of her subconscious. She didn't think anything. Was barely breathing. Didn't need much air when you didn't have a purpose to breathe. It was just considerate really. There were important people who had good jobs, excellent grades, and of course all those politicians and priests. They deserved the air more than she did.

Her eyes strained when she heard the rattling of her door knob and tiredly glanced over. In walked a familiar football headed face.

He took one look at her and sighed. Her thin and lanky body was smothered under three thick blankets. The room was a dreadful mess as well. "What're you doing?"

Her eyes moved back to find the dust particles but with the unexpected presence in the room they ran away and hid. "Self medicating." Her voice was hoarse and dry.

Arnold browsed the grim atmosphere of the room. It was cluttered with empty pizza boxes and drippy beer cans that she had probably stolen from her Mother's selection in the fridge. "With pizza and beer? Helga this is pathetic." He bent over and started to collect her trash.

She watched him for a moment but rolled her eyes and turned over in her warm and secure nest. Her back facing him. "I wouldn't expect you to understand." She closed her sullen eye lids.

There were times like these, not very often where she would be reminded of FTi and the events that happened after her incredibly embarrassing confession of love to the boy. They were good friends now which she was very grateful for, but still, at one point in time he**_ had_** thrown her heart into the wood chipper which sent her soul into a gruesome despair through puberty and junior high. Unfortunately, she had proof.

"No, I do. But it's been nearly a week. You have to go to school. How many forged doctors notes do you expect to turn in?" He asked, realizing that he probably should have grabbed a garbage bag seeing as his arms were nearly full of crushed beer cans and greasy cardboard.

"As much as it takes to last me till graduation."

He raised an eyebrow behind his large glasses. Maybe it was the way his eye balls rested in his football shaped cranium, his sight had worsened through high school. "Oh come on, Fuzzy Slippers isn't going to hook you up forever. Even he knows you're too smart for this."

Helga had done quite a bit of business with the friendly hoodlum from their childhood. They usually traded things. She would provide him with test answers, photo copies of expensive school books, even templates for crucial essays. She never admitted it, but most of the work that now could be bought on the streets was provided from her own inventive mind and fingertips. He would usually trade her cigarettes, alcohol, anything she wanted really.

She hesitantly opened her eyes and gazed out the window. The sun was the only thing to stare at and she did so without wincing.

Arnold breathed out heavily and set the assortment of garbage near the door. He walked over to the bed and silently sat at her bedside. Cautiously rubbing her shoulder as if a single touch would make her disappear.

"You're such a hypocrite." She spoke up. Her throat scratchy. "Remember when Lila left for the Midwest? You were depressed for nearly two weeks."

He grinned thoughtfully at his cherished friend. "Yes, but I wasn't a hermit. I went to school. Continued my life…"

She sat up rather quickly. An imprint of her body revealed in the mattress as she looked over on the side dresser and grabbed a half empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She didn't glance his way as she stuck one of the sticks in her mouth and sparked a flame. Staring into the fire until it started to burn the tobacco. She uncaringly threw the lighter across the room, sat into the bed rest and asked politely, "Could you open up the window please?" Smoke came flurrying out of her pale nostrils.

The boy put his hands on his knees and stood up, doing what he was asked. Feeling the outside air it must have been around 80 degrees. He rolled his eyes, because here she was, bundled in blankets.

She casually held the cigarette, indifferent about where the ashes fell. "Besides, it's not like you were reminded of her every day. She was gone. You didn't have to see her and be reminded that you two were no longer together."

He made his way back to her bedside and shrugged. "Her absence was enough of a reminder…"

Helga rolled her eyes as she took a drag and the cigarette butt lit up. Smoke billowed out of her mouth as she talked, "Whatever. She wasn't right for you anyways."

She finally looked over at him. The first time since he had arrived he was smiling with his brow raised coyly. "Oh really?"

She returned the small grin but looked back into the cherry of tobacco.

A short silence went by. Quiet bird melodies could be heard out the window. "Have you even spoken to your mother?"

She flicked the remainder of the ashes and put out the cigarette on the table of her dresser. "I've been leaving her notes to take her medication every morning."

"Does she even know what's going on?"

Helga scoffed grimly and crossed her arms. "She's doped up on anti-depressants and booze all day. I doubt she even knows what's going on in her own life." Her eyes trailed blissfully back out the window.

Arnold glanced down at his wrist watch and offered his good friend a proposition. "Well, second period starts in thirty minutes…think you'd be up to it?"

"As long as I'm invisible."

He was tentative about her decision. "I don't know if that's entirely possible."

She looked over at him. Her blue eyes lifeless. Her blonde hair stringy and flat. Her lips pale, skin cold. "Can I at least shower before we go?" Even if she truly did not want to be seen in public, but was being forced to go, it was going to be on her own terms and conditions.

He smiled kindly and nodded. "Sure."

She pushed the three blankets off of her scrawny yet toned body and put a hand over her forehead. Her eyes closed and she wobbled a bit. "You might need to help me to the bathroom though…I'm still a little tipsy."

Arnold chuckled and gently took her ankles, sliding her rather limp legs over the side of the bed. "You have beer for breakfast?"

"No food in the stomach makes you feel less, faster." She smiled firmly.

He took her hand and wrapped her arm over his neck, supporting her waist with his other arm. And slowly yet gracefully they made it down the hall and to the bathroom. She clung to the edge of the porcelain sink and attempted to regain her balance as he carefully let go.

Arnold commented softly. "Just let me know when you're done. I'll be waiting outside the bathroom."

_"Arnold…?"_ She responded quietly as he was about to shut the door.

They both stared at each other. He was waiting for a question or statement, but all he noticed was the puffiness starting to bloom in her blue eyes. She silently took the bottom folds of her shirt and lifted them up, above her head and off of her body. She dropped the baggy shirt to the ground and stared directly into his green eyes.

He stared back into her eyes, for he felt it would be incredibly rude to just browse over her vulnerability. But from his peripheral vision, her body seemed emaciated and yet still healthily lean. Her chest was barely noticeable, and he had recognized some scars that she had shown him some time ago. Her stomach and biceps had numerous cuts on them. Both deep and minor.

He felt his stomach sink as his eyes involuntarily drifted to the cuts. He knew they had something to do with him, which always made him feel a thick stab of guilt. Even if it was a long time ago. But they were lighter scars, nearly white, which made him feel better knowing that she hadn't continued the self-mutilation.

She lightly took his hand in hers and led it just above her left breast. Her skin was clammy and cold, and felt as if it was nearly crawling off of her bones.

Helga closed her eyes tight. Tears welling and forming upon her eyelashes as he felt her heart beat. It wasn't warm. Or even. It was fast. Then slow. Then fast again. And it didn't feel productive. As if it was struggling to keep blood flow throughout her body.

Arnold nodded knowingly, and soundlessly took her bare torso into his soft and warm embrace. She cried into his shoulder and wrapped her arms snug around his upper back.

_"I understand…"_ he whispered into her ear. And he did. He knew what a broken heart felt like.

**_XOXOX_**

Her blonde hair was wet and hadn't been brushed, just combed to the side with her fingers. Arnold had picked out a black hoodie and some blue jeans for her while she was in the shower, just because he said she looked a bit chilly, but fortunately a bit of rosiness had returned to her cheeks and nose.

He had courted her to the classroom, kissed her on the cheek and made her promise to call him if she needed anything. She said of course, and couldn't help think that if the circumstances were different…maybe they could…but that time had already come and gone.

Helga stepped into her second period class which was American History 201. It must have been at least 10 minutes in because the instructor paused in mid-sentence.

"Miss Pataki, so nice of you to join us again. How are you feeling? You know you should be more careful. People are becoming terribly ill from influenza this year."

"I feel fine. And I will be more careful, Mrs. Adams." She respectfully lied.

"Well find a seat, and take out you're copied notes. We were just reviewing the material on the exam this Friday."

The young girl nodded and turned towards the crowd of unamused faces looking back at her. They were staring at her as she moved. They knew she hadn't really been sick. Everyone knew about her suicidal escapades in junior high, and it seemed as if where ever she went this elephant followed her and continuously sat in the back of the room. Of course friends and family could move on and forget, but reputations lasted forever. She would always be the girl that tried to off herself the day before 8th grade graduation. There would always be cutters and blood fanatics in high school, but at least they still had their demons in the closet. And could avoid subtle conversations about what was wrong with Helga G. Pataki.

She slumped into her desk. Pulling back her hood and letting her wet and messy hair fall around her shoulders. Rhonda leaned over urgently and whispered. _"Where have you been for the past five days?"_

Helga looked over at her calmly. Her eyes dead pools of blue. _"Avoiding my life."_

Surprisingly, Rhonda Lloyd had actually become one of the good ones. With Helga's failed attempt, she entered high school rather shook up and utterly frightened. Most noticed, most ignored. There were a couple who actually recognized the soullessness in her step. For Rhonda had her own depressions and knew everyone else did too, although it wasn't common talk. She placed a gentle hand over Helga's pale bony fingers. _"It's that bad? I'm so sorry, P."_

Helga didn't look at her and took in a heavy breath. She didn't like making eye contact too much. Maybe someone might actually notice all the colors of agony and love in her eyes and not be able to determine which was which. _"It's fine."_

The dark haired girl uneasily bit her lip and looked back down at the notebook paper on her desk with her pencils. She was never really good with these things. Making people feel better and such when they were in utter turmoil. But this was a time when she actually wanted to say something right.

Helga finally glanced over at her anxious friend. Her black hair cut short and her bangs long. Her makeup a quaint masterpiece as if Van Gogh had painted it himself. The girl was still as gorgeous at ever. _"Since when does Rhonda Lloyd become so concerned with the affairs of us mere peasants?"_

_"Well you're not everybody. You're my friend and I know what love feels like…and what it feels like when it's gone…"_ Still looking down at the blue lined paper, she took her pencil and absent mindedly ran the lead between the lines. So organized and grey. When she really wanted to grip the soft wood and rip the tip of the pencil across the page in chaotic nonsense.

Helga's eyes softened upon the girl, and she then slowly looked back at her own notes. Imagining her own muddled and frenzied lines. But they stayed in her head.


	2. 3 Years Ago

**_Closets_**

_Written by MSID_

**_3 Years Ago_**

**_XOXOX_**

Her blood was racing through her veins with grave fear. She had received the quiet and disturbing phone call around five minutes ago. _"I went too far this time…"_

Phoebe was running as fast as her short legs would take her down the dark avenue. The street lights were bleakly dim. She was nearly to the blue bricked house. Only a block away.

She had to remember to breathe. The mild Hillwood air. Her glasses were becoming foggy but she had been to the duplex so many times she could get there even if she were blind.

She just hoped she wasn't too late…

Phoebe hurriedly rounded the corner and reached the stoop. She jogged up, inaudibly turning the knob to the front door and opening it. She had to make her entrance as silent as possible, for she could hear a heavy snoring coming from the living room couch. The TV was on, but it was just static lighting the dreary and alcohol fumed space.

She slowly closed the door behind her and climbed the stairs, two steps at a time. Entered the dark hallway and opened a familiar door. The room seemed hollow and murky, but there was a flickering glow coming from under the closet door.

Phoebe opened the door and her heart shattered. It was like a heavy brick colliding against a glass window. She felt the sharp pieces scrape down her insides and every inch of her body cringed.

There was a lot of blood. Helga was sitting against the back wall. A candle lit beside her. It's flame glowing against the side of her pale face in the dim closet.

She held a white t-shirt fiercely over her bicep. Ripped from one of the hangers in the small room. Her fingers were dried with crimson crust, and a dark red liquid drenched the shirt as it ran slowly down her forearm.

_"Oh my God."_ Phoebe whispered hoarsely as she immediately crouched down beside her friend. There was a box cutter lying by the candle. It had a faint amount of blood on the blade.

_"It's not that bad…"_ Helga breathed out heavily and rested her cumbersome head against the wall. Her lips were incredibly chapped and there were bruised rings under her colorless eyes.

She hesitantly tried lifting the soaked shirt. _"Helga-"_

The blonde weakly pulled her arm away. _"No…I cut it too deep…"_ She stared off in the shady corner of the closet. Staring at the mental demons that laughed at her and spit on her worth. Their red eyes shimmered in her mind. She felt a soft hand placed upon her stained cheek.

Phoebe quietly moved Helga's devastated face to gaze into her eyes. There was treacherous hate. It washed out a blue color that any other time would be utterly delightful to see.

Helga's brows rose unhappily and scrunched together. _"Don't cry…"_

_"I can't help it… it kills me to see you like this…"_

She sighed wearily. Desperately. Her voice a mere whisper in the wind, waiting to be blown away. _"I can't have him…I need him…"_ her own eyes started to well with hopeless tears.

Phoebe placed her other hand on Helga's alternate cheek. She tenderly brushed her thumb over the darkness underneath the girl's eye. _"No…no you don't."_

Helga chuckled wearily but then her eyes winced and she groaned a bit. Her hand clenching the shirt over the sensitive wound.

_"Come on, we need to get you to the hospital_." Phoebe spoke urgently, moving her hands to Helga's clean arm.

She shook her head slowly. Defiantly. _"No…Miriam can't know…she's already going through the…di…divorce."_

Phoebe breathed out anxiously. _"I'm going to go see if I can find anything to wrap it up then."_

She got up and silently crept through the quiet house, making her way to the bathroom. Why was this happening…? How could Helga be so…utterly blind…? How could she let it get to this point? Arnold wasn't anything special at all. It made her furious. How people could just blatantly neglect and ignore those who were in so much pain…? How could he just reject her like that? Knowing full well of how much she loved him…

The girl angrily gritted her teeth as her blood continued to race aimlessly. She heatedly searched through the medical cabinets. Finding some hydrogen peroxide, Neosporin, gauze and medical tape, she stumbled back into the shadowy hallway and went back to the closet.

She kneeled next to the blonde girl and spoke rather nervously. _"I'm going to have to take the shirt now…"_

Helga just looked back into the sinister corner and away from her lifelong friend. _"Just don't hate me…"_

Phoebe lightly took a fold of the shirt and slowly lifted it off of the wound. Around the large fleshy gash were little cuts, overtop of other healing scars. Her stomach felt like a boulder had developed at the pit of it. Making it sink profusely. She swallowed and calmly twisted the cap off of the bottle, pouring a bit of the peroxide on the shirt. _"This is going to hurt."_

She gingerly pressed it upon the wound and Helga's eyes shot open at the sky. She pressed her lips together tight but couldn't help but curse rather loudly. **"FUCK!"**

She patted the solution on the cuts and after wiping Helga's arm of any more blood, Phoebe delicately dabbed Neosporin around the area and wrapped it up with the gauze and medical tape.

Her face was rather emotionless as she started to clean up the mess on the floor and Helga gently placed her hand upon the girl's. Her eyes were apologetic and burdensome. _"I'm sorry…I'm sorry I'm terrible and loveless…"_

_"You're neither of those things…" _The short girl bent forward and their foreheads touched. She stared into Helga's eyes. The heaviness in her stomach was replaced with an odd fluttery feeling as she could see a glimpse of sapphire color blooming from the girl's pupils. _"You have no idea what you genuinely are…"_

Helga smiled affectionately. _"And what am I?"_

The fluttery feeling became stronger and sensually vivid as she could feel Helga's warm breathing upon her lips. _"You're…broken…but in the most beautiful way possible…" _Her voice was almost inaudible.

The blonde closed her eyes achingly and pressed her feet and hands upon the creaky floor, attempting to stand up. Phoebe blinked a couple times to clear her mind and let out a quick breath. She took her friend's hand and helped her up. _"How can any of me be beautiful…? Arnold doesn't want me…my own father doesn't want me…"_

The two slowly walked over to Helga's bed. Phoebe moved the sheets over as the blonde unsteadily sat down. She wearily lowered her head to the comforting pillow. A calm moonlight entering through the window and reflecting through her eyes as she gazed into the sky.

Phoebe pulled the covers over Helga's silent body and attentively tucked her in. She hesitated for a moment, nibbled on her bottom lip and spoke quietly. _"I want you…"_

Helga smiled sleepily. Her eyes started to close from exhausted heaviness. _"You're just saying that…"_

She shook her head and kneeled both of her knees on the floor. Her arms crossing on the top of the bed beside Helga, she rested her chin comfortably. _"I really do." _Mesmerized by the blonde's face.

Helga's smile started to fade. Moments went by as Phoebe noticed the changes in her breathing. The way her body rose and fell. It was deeper, and the moonlight shimmered in the gold flecks of her hair.

Phoebe blinked slowly and she lovingly whispered. _"I want you…like you want Arnold…"_

Barely inching forward, her heart pounded out of her chest like a frivolous drum and she closed her eyes, courageously brushing the tips of her lips with Helga's comatose ones.


	3. Part 2

**_Closets_**

_Written by MSID_

**_Part 2_**

**_XOXOX_**

The girls had gotten to use their lunch period and skip 5th period to sell the baked goods. Each sale went to a fundraiser that Miss Lloyd had started herself when she became fed up with the uniforms that the Hillwood High softball team had used, hand-me-downs from around the mid 80's. The rest of the team didn't mind them so much. Each rip could be patched and each stain could be bleached, however there was one thing that she just couldn't possibly ignore anymore. And her blonde friend was starting to notice it as well. Throughout their high school softball career, both of the girls had at least grown a good five inches. Helga stood at a solid 5'10" while Rhonda was peaking at 6 foot. And seeing as the uniforms were a couple generations old, they needed something new.

Arnold approached the booth as it resided between the two double doors that led into the cafeteria. There was a lot of traffic, and Rhonda smiled brightly when she saw him. Helga gave a small grin as well, recounting the bills in her hands.

He sat on the edge of the table, making sure not to disrupt their attractive display of deserts. "How goes business, girls?"

"Ah, mazing, Arnold. Guess how much money we've made." Rhonda responded joyfully, fingering through the till of coins and dollars residing on the table.

"Hmmm…" he coyly thought, stroking his chin. "Two hundred dollars?"

Rhonda looked over to Helga and the blonde cheerfully spoke up. "Two hundred and **thirty four** dollars."

Arnold grinned. It was the first time he had seen her somewhat optimistic in the past week. He looked over to his other companion and remarked sarcastically. "Geez Ron, you going to attach robotic wings to the back of these uniforms?"

"The money isn't just going to uniforms. It's going to new helmets, gas for the busses, shoes, bats, you name it." She closed the top flap of the metal till.

Arnold was about to respond when he noticed a tall dark figure to his right. He glanced over and saw Gerald and was going to greet his friend with a kind hello, but then as his eyes trailed down, a shorter girl had appeared from his side. Her glasses were blue and her shoulder length hair was a jet black. He felt his stomach clench.

"What's up, everyone?" Gerald questioned interestedly.

But as Helga looked up from the money in her hands, her heart stopped, and time crumbled around her and the person radiantly reflecting in her eyes. Maybe it should've been the opposite way around, she couldn't tell. Her whole entity became engulfed by those brown eyes that appeared so tender. Those lips that moved so supplely. The vulnerability that oozed off of the immaculate individual, when she would usually hide so sheepishly behind her extraordinary IQ.

Phoebe's pupils dilated painfully at the sight of the blonde girl that sat before her, and all she could do was sorely stare at her feet.

Arnold urgently placed a cautious hand upon Rhonda's shoulder and she spoke up pleasantly. "Phoebe, Gerald. Are you interested in buying some cookies? Cupcakes?"

Helga could feel the back of her jaw dissipating. The inner lining of her throat collapsing. Her shaking hand searched underneath the table for some sort of reinforcement, and if she didn't find it soon, she was well aware that her forehead was going to belligerently collide with half of the cookies on the table.

A sturdy hand found hers and cupped it supportively. Helga looked over at Rhonda who had a gorgeous mask of confidence upon her face as she looked at the childhood couple before her.

Gerald glanced over to his lovely companion and grinned. "Do you want anything?"

Phoebe shook her head. "No, I'm good." She responded mousey.

He felt for his back pocket. "I'd like to get a white chip macadamia nut, please. Just one." He pulled out his wallet and handed her the money. She returned his change with a few coins.

"Thank you for your business." Rhonda averted her eyes over to Phoebes, and a breed of coldness washed over them.

The shorter girl felt a crawling up her spine and looked away as Helga was sitting idly next to Rhonda. She was probably squeezing the life out of her friend's hand, but she knew Rhonda had a firm grip. She alternated on the team between catcher and left outfielder quite frequently.

Arnold was just looking at the ceiling. He wished to avoid most of this female tension.

"I really do hope you girls raise enough money. I think it's unfair that the baseball team gets more funding than the softball team." Gerald added in.

Rhonda tilted her head menacingly and gave a wide shit-eating grin. Squinting her eyes at the shorter girl. "Sexism at its finest."

"Well, thanks for the cookie." He smiled and looked over to Phoebe. She glanced back up at him and then over to Helga whose face was turning paler by the minute.

"Thanks, Gerald."

As soon as they had walked away and passed into the next isle of lockers and students, Helga's face slumped into her hands. She groaned inaudibly.

"Who does she think she is? Just parading around in front of you with him like that? You'd think she was me or something!" Rhonda proclaimed with a look of disgust stamped upon her facial features.

Helga shook her tense head exhaustedly. "I need to get out of here. Arnold, take me home." She gazed up at him, her eyes filled with sorrow.

He sighed, and got off the table to walk over by her side. He rubbed both of her shoulders comfortingly. "Helga, come on. Just relax. She's gone now."

"I should get a job." She said as she massaged the bridge between her eyes.

"What for?"

"So I can consume myself in work and forget about all this."

Rhonda placed a reassuring yet firm hand upon her friend's back and rubbed up and down as Arnold spoke up. "Well you know we're here for you." He made sure his voice and stature was encouraging. A fear in his gut told him that the possibility of her harming herself in the near future might've been a possibility, but he stayed optimistic. He'd be there for her this time.

Rhonda was blunt, "I think you should just start dating someone else."

Helga raised her brow as she peered over at her friend. She scoffed. "Right, Ron."

"I'm serious! Why does she get to be available while you stand by and suffer?"

The blonde girl listened to her friend's ploy amusingly. "And who do you suggest I date?"

She shrugged her elegant shoulders innocently. "You could even just date either me or Arnold. Give her some of her own medicine." Her hand formed a rebellious fist. It wasn't all the time that Rhonda Lloyd had the opportunity to be conniving and devious outside the fashion world.

Arnold adjusted his bifocals in uncertainty. "Don't you think that's a little deceitful? Helga's not going to be dating because she wants to. Only because Phoebe's been hanging out with Gerald lately, which isn't really qualified as dating."

"Toying with people's affections, Arnold. I believe that's what high-school is all about. Malignant and petty ways to make yourself feel better."

Helga grinned humorously at her stylish companion's cunningness. "I think I would have to at least be mildly bisexual to date Arnold, which I'm not. And you would have to be at least mildly bisexual to date me."

Rhonda shrugged and nudged the blonde suggestively. _"You don't know what I'm capable of…" _She amorously winked at her.

The blonde girl laughed and lightly pushed her away. "Thanks, guys. I mean, I appreciate it…I just…I'm not sure if I can move on so quickly…"

"It's just to make her jealous. You know, a fake relationship. Maybe if she becomes envious enough she'll break this whole straight façade and come running back."

Helga's eyes averted over to Arnold's. She glared at him and he just raised his hands in the air innocently.

"It wasn't **_MY _**idea!"

**_XOXOX_**

She wasn't even sure what her eyes were focusing on. She was just staring as feelings fogged her brain. Which was rather perplexing as all that was supposed to wrought her mind was advanced math solutions and how many geological years made a mountain.

But she couldn't think of anything. Not even of the simplest thing. What color did blue and green make mixed together? What was the sea level from where she was sitting at this very second, and what was the temperature outside? She couldn't even remember what month it was.

It was like a hunger. A starvation really. A cloud that suffocated all the known information in her brain. Maybe that was why she couldn't think straight. Her heart felt rampant, becoming a beast that wanted to ravage all of **_her_** touch. And smell. And taste.

She closed her bloodshot eyes. It was unbearable. She was going to snap. How could she have hurt her like that? The pain in those delicate and gracious blue eyes. She could feel her insides twisting. What hurt more? The unquenchable drive for lost intimacy, or the misery of hurting the most cherished person in her world?

Gerald looked over at her, at little worried. "You okay? You barely touched your food."

Words? She was supposed to speak now. That's right. Phoebe looked over as normally as she could. "What? Yeah I'm um…just not very hungry I suppose." But she was. Was it a testosterone thing? To just look at one person and want them so badly it ached your very core? Was the man in her devouring the sympathetic and considerate estrogen that inhabited her blood?

He hesitated and used his fork to twirl his lunch nonchalantly around on the paper plate. "So…what's going on with you and Helga?"

Oh…her name. It draped around the ridges of her brain like a ribbon, tied in a snug bow, almost if God had done it himself. She started to feel light headed. Dizzy. She closed her lids. Colors appeared behind her 20/80 eyes, which eventually evolved into images. Warm smiles. Glistening sapphire rings around wide and dark pupils. Bare skin in the moonlight. She opened her eyes. Had to say something…anything…

"We…um…had a fight."

"Yeah? About what?" He looked over at her curiously.

Heated bathroom stalls. Humid janitor closets. Under the creaky bleachers. They all distorted her vision. She grabbed onto Gerald's hand just to help her come back to reality. She had to hold onto something in the present time. "It's…It's nothing."

He looked back down at his food and slowly moved his hand away, figuring she probably didn't want to talk about it.

**_XOXOX_**

She felt like a wild animal stalking its prey. Her eyes felt incredibly heavy. Staring through the metal bleacher seats. Luckily it was dark enough underneath them that she couldn't be seen. It was mostly used for couples getting intimate; however, this time all she could do was hide from her life.

Helga hesitated out on the brightly lit diamond and leaned her torso at a 45 degree angle, her right hand behind her back. Fingers dabbling with the circular object. She rubbed her nose, and then with a sudden motion, she swiftly threw the ball to Rhonda who was crouched down at home plate. The other girls on the team were practicing their throws as well.

"Damn, Pataki! That's fuckin' hot!" Rhonda shouted behind the thick mask as she quickly stood up. She ripped off her mitt, put it under her arm and fanned her stinging hand.

Helga just grinned smugly as she casually walked over to her friend by home plate. She teased, "Well I have been gone for five days…you think I'd take it easy on you? You're grip becoming soft, **_Wellington_**?"

"Very funny." Rhonda responded rather annoyed, fearing she might've broken a nail. She shoved Helga irritably and flexed her fingers, putting the mitt back on. The blonde then walked back to the pitcher's mound, a small smile curling her lips as she rolled her shoulders. Then her arms.

Phoebe could feel her breath pick up, her heart racing. She momentarily took off her glasses and massaged her eyes. Pinched her cheeks and slapped her arms. Snap out of it.

She could hear a rustling in the dirt behind her and a whisper. _"You wanted to talk?" _It was Arnold. School had already been out for at least 30 minutes and he had lugged along his backpack full of hefty school books underneath the cramped bleachers.

The girl just continued to stare at the scene out on the baseball field. Her strained eyes were captivated. _"Have you ever just wanted something…so bad…it drove you literally insane? You wanted it more than food. Than water. Than air."_

Arnold sighed as he set down his bag and positioned himself on the grass below. Crossing his legs, he ran a hand through his lengthy blonde hair. _"I thought you were better than this."_

She turned around and looked at him peculiarly.

He looked up at her. His face rather bleak and brows furrowed. _"She's…just sulking…__**sulking**__, Phoebe. It's agonizing to watch."_

_"Oh like you're such a saint in Helga's position? You think I don't know that this whole situation sucks? Granted, I do love Gerald. We had a good run before…before…"_ She glanced back out the bleachers with a grave and distressed heart. She restlessly massaged her eyes again, her glasses becoming smudged. She could feel the sharp and frenzied anxiety rising in her chest. The depression bringing dark and brooding clouds around her mind. _"My psychiatrists are attempting to lower my doses…trying to wean me." _

_"I'm not saying I'm a saint. I fully take responsibility for my actions in the past, and I __**am**__ sorry for them. But I just don't want Gerald to think that…you know. You guys are back together for good. You can't lead him on like that."_ He retaliated rather heatedly.

She shook her head repeatedly and her hands started to twitch. _"No, I told him…I told him things were definitely different…" _Her vision became ancy, and her pulse had picked up to an uneasy level.

_"You really shouldn't flaunt it in her face though."_

Her hands flew up and desperately looked at him. _"He wanted to support the bake sale! What was I supposed to do, tell him, Sorry we can't be seen in front of my girlfriend?"_

_"__**Ex**__-girlfriend."_

That stung. And she forced back tears. She shook her head vigilantly. _"Arnold…I just…"_ she took his hands into her clammy ones. _"You have to believe me. I never wanted __**any**__ of this to happen…But I'm so scared. I'm terrified…"_ It wasn't her fault. With the immense pressure her parents had laid upon her childhood with expectations of excellent grades and faultless choices, the girl had developed somewhat of a behavior disorder. Sure she was always apprehensive when people stared at her, waiting for her to raise her hand and have the right answer instantaneously. Lately the stress had just overwhelmed her, so much to a point where she never wanted anyone to look in her direction. Except for one person… _"I wish I could calm down…more than anything…"_

He breathed out in an unsettling manner and rubbed the creases on his forehead. _"What if you guys…just tried being friends?"_

Her head trembled pessimistically. _"I can't be her friend. Because friends don't …"_ The tears started to spill from her agonized eyes. _"Friends don't want to…consume every breath, every look…every taste. Friends can't have the feelings I'm having."_

_"She feels the same way you know…"_ Arnold responded reassuringly.

_"I had to save her from this…from __**this**__ situation…that I can never come out from…I want that for her…to be able to freely walk around on the streets with another…"_ Her throat became abnormally parched and tight. _"woman."_

He stared at her for a while, and he felt a breeze of empathy for the girl. _"Phoebe you know Helga. If you had to stay in the closet for the rest of eternity…she'd be right there with you…I know she wouldn't care what anyone else thought…"_

Her burdensome head fell into her damp hands, but eventually she gazed back out at the populated diamond. Her heart fluttered as she watched her beloved. A delighted glint in her yellow hair and blue eyes. Being able to freely and carelessly enjoy the sport for this brief moment in time. Her mind sparked some clarity. And she wanted that casual contentment and bliss for the girl she cherished so dearly. _"But she deserves so much more security than that. She deserves more…And I don't deserve to be with someone so…beautiful…when all I can do I cower in the dark."_


	4. Homework

**_Closets_**

_Written by MSID_

**_Homework_**

**_XOXOX_**

After Helga and Rhonda had finished softball practice and quickly showered in the women's locker room afterwards (no way Rhonda would be seen dead all sweaty and dirty off of the field) the trio had piled over at Arnold's house, starting on their homework and being responsible students. Helga was a little rusty. Somewhat with socializing, _mostly_ with homework.

The girls both sat on Arnold's bed facing each other with their legs crossed. They were practicing for their upcoming exam on American History of the Early 20th Century which would happen in the next week or so. The raven haired girl wanted to make sure her friend was prepared. No way Helga was going to flunk out because of some silly relationship issues.

Arnold had been typing up essays on his computer. The desktop was from 1999. Everyone was amazed it still turned on, let alone worked. And they were all pretty sure the printer was older than the desktop.

Helga pressed her index finger and thumb above her eye sockets. Felt like they had been studying for a millennium. "Ron, can't we continue this another time? I'm mentally exhausted."

Rhonda rolled her eyes but she gave in and decided that her friend's brain had enough for the day. Besides, all she could see through Arnold's skylight were some very dim stars, and it was starting to strain her eyes as she glanced over the small and fine print of their textbook. "Fine, no more studying for today. But tomorrow, definitely." She pointed a stern finger.

The blonde groaned, "Alright, alright." She grabbed one of the paperback books she had in her bag, laid back upon Arnold's bed and pretended to read. Honestly she was just hiding from her friend's conscientious eyes.

Rhonda picked up her belongings and stuffed the study cards into the front pocket of her large purse. Draping it over her elegant shoulder, she walked over to Arnold and hugged the studious young man with one arm around his neck. "Later, Gator."

He barely glanced away from the project he was delved into. "Seeya, Ron. Drive safe."

She looked over to Helga and put her thumb to her ear, her pinky to her mouth. "Call me if you need anything, okay? I mean it."

The blonde girl nodded as Rhonda smiled kindheartedly and waved goodbye, closing the door behind her as she left the room.

She started (and tried) to read her small book about the reinforcements of United States soldiers dispatched into France during WWI, but her restless eyes kept drifting to the stars that seemed so far away from Arnold's skylight. If this were three years ago, things would've been very different.

She would've died at the thought of lying atop his bed. And with his comprehensive knowledge that she was physically there, things would have been perfect. But they weren't now. And that's what drove her on the bridge of insanity. If only she could have escaped into the darkness that wrapped around the tentative people of this neighborhood.

Arnold scratched his head and adjusted his glasses. He was supposed to be working on a three dimensional map for his topography elective that he took on Saturday mornings at the Hillwood Community College. He always found a fascination with maps.

He shook his head, saved his project and turned off the monitor of the ancient computer. The boy tiredly massaged his eye lids under his bulky frames. "I'm not going to touch that again until tomorrow. _Driving me nuts…_"

She peered over at him and smirked as he twirled his chair around to face her. "And I thought **_reading_** a map was difficult. Can't imagine building one from scratch."

He stood up and grinned at his companion as he sat on the bedside, next to her relaxed posture. "Probably a lot harder than battle tactics for early twentieth century war." He retorted coyly.

"Well, thanks to incredibly boring people like you, Germany wouldn't have been able to invade France without a map. How do you like that on your conscious?" She raised a brow and tried to play guilt upon his football headed cranium.

He laughed softly. "I think I'll be okay."

She calmly sat up, slowly closed her book and set it to the side of his mattress where his wall of shelves resided.

It was a lot darker than they both realized in the room. Days were becoming shorter due to the approaching fall months, and sun was sparse enough with how often the sky clouded up from imminent winds from the north.

He could still see the faint concentration on her eye brows through the dimming illumination. _"What are you thinking about?"_

She shook her head slowly and her usual boisterous voice became a mere whisper. Her blue eyes composing into dusk with each passing second. _"…I'm thinking about a lot of things..."_

Arnold glanced down and focused on his feet. His mind was resting on Miss Heyerdahl's concerns from earlier that day. And the way she looked. So frantic and distraught behind those large intellectual glasses that hid her from the stressful and pressuring world. Should he tell Helga? Should he let her know of the pain and suffering that was going on in the heart and soul of Phoebe's withering faith?

The blonde girl viewed the boy's slight complex presence for a moment then scooted her slender form closer with her long legs. _"Can you do me a favor_?" She sounded a tad apprehensive, momentarily hugging her knees to her chest.

_"Sure."_ He snapped out of his thoughts for a moment to meet her face again in the dark. But he discovered his own breath leaving his nostrils as a reassuring hand found the back of his head, and a pair of lips softly pressed against his in a light kiss.

Arnold pulled away in a quiet reflex. _"What're you doing?"_

_"I've never…."_ She winced and lightly bit her bottom lip, her thoughts frenzied in faltering beliefs and notions. _"I mean…how do I know if..."_

_"What?"_

_ "Arnold, I trust you…"_

The young man wished his tattered breathing could speak some sort of resolution, but he was truly speechless. _"I'm just not so sure."_

_"Is it me?"_ she asked insecurely. A pale blush tinting her cheeks in the murky light.

He admired her awkward beauty. _"No…no, of course not."_ And felt his own expression start to get hot with unprepared embarrassment.

_"What is it, then?"_ She softly placed a consoling hand upon his thigh.

It was a lot of things. Maybe a tiny part of him actually did have feelings for his close friend. Maybe he didn't want to ruin her friendship or Phoebe's. What was he to say though? He was Arnold, too kind and considerate to turn away a friend in need. It would be his downfall.

Helga silently pulled his gaze to hers and she removed his thick framed glasses, delicately placing her tongue in his apprehensive mouth. He could feel her nose brush against his. Their eyelashes intertwining.

Not moving her lips from his she grabbed his loose shirt and laid back upon his bed, bringing his modest body atop of hers. His weight wasn't relaxed, and his eyes weren't entirely closed. He tried shutting them, he just couldn't part from the visuals of her upper face. The pink translucency of her eye lids was just too appealing.

The focus of her hands gravitated to his chest and ornery yellow locks. Her nails would lightly cling to his scalp, grace down his neck and make their way to his lower back.

Arnold could feel the passion in her mouth, the alluring sweat in her hair and underneath her clothes. The outer layer of his lips stung at her gentle ferocity and he had remembered the way she kissed him seven years ago. This was different.

She was firm but considerately tender with him at the same time. She didn't hold him tight as if she thought he were to jump up and run away at any second like she had in the past. Her arms wrapped around him as if he were the most precious thing in the entire world. As if he took her pain away with every supple parting and quick reunion of their lips.

He gazed into his companion's indigo eyes. Her golden hair soaked in moonlight shimmering through the window pane of his room. She stared into his as well, but hers held an eerie detachment in their blue colors. Was she looking at him? Or was she looking **_through_** him?

He focused on his blurry reflection in her watering eyes, and he could've sworn it was someone else.


	5. Cat & Mouse : Part 1

**_Closets_**

_Written by MSID_

_A/N: The chronological order of things may get a little messy in this chapter. But I will try to keep things as non-confusing as I can._

_And thank you to all my readers and supporters!_

**_Cat & Mouse  
Part 1_**

**_XOXOX_**

**_Sometime around 2 ¾ years ago…_**

Most of the gang from P.S. 118 was enjoying the bustle of the new and fresh high school environment, except for one.

Eighth grade graduation was around four months ago and Miss Pataki made sure she kept her presence discrete as much as she possibly could. A trip to the Hillwood Emergency room prevented her from walking down the celebrated aisle with her classmates. Families taking pictures, parents taking video. Not that she gave two hoots about a piece of paper or a tassel. She genuinely wanted everyone to forget the occurrence. Mostly because her reputation had spun a one-eighty. She went from one day being Pataki, the fearsome bully, to Helga, the despondent victim.

She quietly peered through the small horizontal vents of her locker door at the scene across the long hallway. She had been inaudibly occupied in the conversations of a blonde football headed boy and a freckled red head down the hall. Arnold laughed genially at something his female companion had asked. "Of course I'll go with you."

She knew she shouldn't have been looking at him. Or even thinking about him. Ever since two weeks ago with her harrowing incident in the closet, she had been seeing Dr. Bliss after school on a daily basis for detachment counseling and remedial treatment. Miriam still wasn't aware. But who could blame her? Her mother had her own relationship problems going on which were more important than a harboring ten year secret.

"How are you feeling?" A soft voice chimed into the painful moment and Helga broke away from her fixed stare, turning around to spot a familiar face. Her emotional weight suddenly seemed lighter when she found her friend's glittering brown eyes behind those blue framed glasses. She was also contentedly snuggled up in a periwinkle turtle neck that seemed a size too big for her petite stature.

A bashful smile formed its way upon Phoebe's astute mouth.

Helga hesitated for a moment and her hand unconsciously went up, brushing the loose cotton over her scarring flesh. She had been wearing long sleeved shirts ever since, and today's was a pale pink. Almost with the hue of an overcast sky. "My um…arm is feeling a lot better." She shivered for an inexplicable moment and huddled her shoulders upwards to conceal her pastel colored neck. Her palms soothingly rubbed her triceps. "You know…I… never really properly thanked you for being there. Sometimes my mind can run away from me…" she gloomily chuckled for a moment. "..and uh…get a little scary. I hope I didn't frighten you or anything."

Phoebe grinned sincerely. She placed a warm hand upon Helga's quivering shoulder. "You could never frighten me, Helga. You're my closest friend." She responded with a tone in her voice that calmed the blonde. "And ignore them." She nodded her diligent and clever head towards Arnold and Lila who were whispering teasingly in each other's ears down the hallway. "They aren't worth your time or energy."

Helga gazed into the intense hazel colors of Phoebe's inquisitive eyes and wondered, did her friend know that she was regularly seeing Dr. Bliss after school hours? She sighed dishearteningly. Everyone probably knew.

The blonde tried to smile casually and stroke her arms again to regain some bodily heat. "I do feel a little tired. I was trying to contemplate menacing schemes all morning…just couldn't think of anything. Guess I don't have much inspiration left…" She even sucked at lying now, but one thing was for sure, she was utterly exhausted with everything.

Gerald strode up to the girls along with Arnold tagged by his side, luckily Lila had already left for class. Both of the boys had a confident smugness on their cheeks and in their eyes. It was as if the air around them wafted assurance.

The dark skinned boy greeted cordially, "Hey, Pheebs…and uh…Helga." He ended rather uneasily. He never really cared to converse with the blonde (used-to-be) hellion. Of course with Gerald's attention mostly focused on attractive and popular girls, he probably didn't notice the pliable attitude of the angsty female teen lately.

Helga just dug her face into her locker to avoid idle and redundant banter. She recapped Dr. Bliss's sessions in her head as Arnold's shampoo scent strongly drifted throughout the small social space.

"What's up?" Phoebe replied respectfully, although her fingers cringed a little around the strap of her book bag. Her medicine that she took earlier in the day made it easier to control her feelings of irritation and impatience.

Gerald tilted his mouth in a charming smirk. "You hear about the Halloween Dance this Friday? Seems like they pushed the date closer because of all the storms coming within the next couple weeks. It's uh…Sadie Hawkins…" He felt his poise struggle a bit, but took in a deep breath to make his chest seem a couple centimeters thicker. He was wearing his lucky leather jacket after all.

Phoebe's eyes twinkled in an intrigued manner. "Well isn't that interesting? You boys been asked yet?"

Arnold put in his two cents rather proudly. The two boys seemed to forget that Helga was even there. "Lila and I are going together."

Helga felt a deep tremble in the bones running down her spine and the dark haired girl smiled apathetically, "How suitable."

His blond brows furrowed a tad. It wasn't really the response he was expecting.

"I actually don't have a date yet…" Gerald added in indifferently. He acted as if he didn't care about the outcome of his partner-less condition for the dance. But truthfully, he had been thinking about it all morning.

"Well, I think we can all agree that shouldn't last long." Phoebe responded comically.

Arnold put his fist over his mouth and quietly laughed to himself, mostly because he won a five dollar bet against his good friend, and secondly because the great _Gerald_ Martin _Johanssen_ rarely got rejected. He was quite the ladies man.

He grinned a little disheartening. His coolness slumped into his chest and the fortune of the jacket didn't catch its fall. "Just throwing it out there."

"Well, good luck to you boys, but I think we all should be heading to class." She chided kindly and linked her arm with Helga's. The blonde girl had been fiddling around with a loose and grimy piece of scotch tape stuck inside of her small locker to occupy herself away from the discussion, but now her attention averted to her cute and short companion as her feet became mobile.

The two girls started heading towards their next classes. Phoebe's lips had a merry cheerfulness to them, and Helga just stared down at her skeptically. The two fabrics of their coupled arms; Helga's pink long-sleeve and Phoebe's light blue turtleneck, complimented each other nicely.

"Since when did you get all spunky with Geraldo?...Were you flirting with him?" She nudged Phoebe's rib cage jokily.

The girl's brown eyes widened and her heart prickled for a brief moment. "No, of course not….I mean…uh…what're you talking about?" Her gaze quietly altered to her feet.

They reached Helga's classroom. It was English.

Her arm pulled away from Phoebe's and she readjusted her back pack which lagged heavily down her back. "That little sass you had going on back there… I kinda like it." She spoke wittily and gave a timid smirk.

Phoebe blushed; she felt a flourish of goosebumps develop underneath her cozy sweater. "You…do?"

Helga opened the door and gave one last cunning response before attending to the class. "Come on Phoebe, you know Gerald loves those hard to get girls."

"Oh…"

**_XOXOX_**

It was her last class of the day. Trigonometry. Usually the girl would've been ecstatic to whip out her plastic pencil box, adjust her glasses and get ready for an hour of cyclical phenomena and trigonometric functions, but Miss Heyerdahl's attention was currently focused on something a little more organic and artistic.

Around six months ago, near the end of the eighth grade, she had taken a detour on her walk home from school. She was reminiscing on her elementary vocation as she balanced on the edges of cracked sidewalks, hummed a Ronnie Matthews tune and chewed on a ball of delightful bubble gum she had bought for twenty five cents at the small vending machine outside of the corner J-Mart.

On her humble and quaint adventure, she stopped outside of a local bookstore she had always passed by when her mother used to take her to cello lessons. She still had a couple dollars; maybe she could find some new summer reading material.

The naïve girl walked in through the creaky door, a bell tied to the top of the frame jingled making the older girl at the checkout become aware of her presence.

She looked around sixteen or seventeen and the counter she stood behind appeared as if it were made out of wood. But it wasn't fresh or new. Years of wear, tear and traffic made it appear dull and dejectedly brown.

"Welcome to Bartlett's Books. Is there anything I can help you find today?"

Phoebe felt her cheeks redden and an uncomfortable feeling mumble and bumble deep within her throat. The clerk was awfully cute. She had a nose ring, frisky brown hair, and round green eyes that sparkled when the topic of books came up.

The young girl sucked in all the courage she had. Her medicine tried helping by pushing down those nervous feelings. "Um…Do you have any reading material on Plato?"

The attendant squinted her shimmering eyes and walked around the old desk. "I think so...might be in our Philosophy section."

Phoebe followed the girl through a couple small aisles which brought them finally to a dusty selection of books in the very corner of the diminutive shop. Her mouth tilted a bit in disappointment.

The teenager grinned affably. "Seem like an **_okay_** selection for this rinky-dink shop?"

Phoebe reactively nodded. She didn't want to come off as rude, even though the span of her mind did seem like a vast ocean of information compared to the reading substance in the basement-scented shop. "Yes. Thank you for showing me where it was."

The charming clerk left her there to search through the selection. Wasn't much of anything she hadn't already read or studied about Plato and his influence on Western philosophy. She felt like giving up until she saw a little periwinkle colored book with '**_Amor caecus est_**_'_ engraved on the narrow spine.

She walked up to the dingy counter with the small book in her hands and set it on the ledge.

"Find anything interesting?"

Phoebe felt another blustery flutter, this time in her stomach as the taller girl gave a fascinated grin. "T-This…book. It has nothing in it."

She opened it up, gently blew off some of the unruffled dust, and browsed through it. "Looks like something a calligraphist would really like to use. Its old but the paper is still in really good shape. Must've been in this shop for a while."

Phoebe knew sometimes her father would practice Japanese kanji and kana with high quality brushes in his free time. But that was usually on long scrolls.

"If you were to write in this you would want to use a ball point ink pen…The broad tip pens are cool…but they can get pretty pricey." She said a little hopelessly. Her head resting casually in her propped up hands.

"How do you know all of this?"

"How do you know so much about Plato?"

"Good point…"

The older girl wiggled a finger curiously at the book. "Do you know what it reads on the spine?"

Phoebe felt her cheeks get warm again, and she paused for a couple seconds. A part of her really wanted to show off her knowledge of dead languages and translating them, and then another part rattled her very core. Screaming to stop all this attention, pay for the book and run out. She shook her head and responded almost inaudibly. "No…I don't know."

"You hesitated. I think you do…" She doubtfully raised her brow.

Phoebe let out a defeated breath, and blinked uncomfortably. "It reads,…**_Love is_**…**_blind_**."

The bell rang, ending the school day, and Phoebe's conscious immediately jerked out of her day dream. She slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbed her small blue book and wrote frivolously as she started to make her way out of the building. The poem was on the tip of her tongue and she didn't want to forget the words before they left her mind perpetually.

_I'm catching breaths  
much like butterflies in a net  
sighs and swoons  
love struck afternoons  
those blue eyes and pink sweaters  
my glances at her pass by like a feather  
and I'm left catching breaths  
for a girl with nothing left_

**_XOXOX_**

Blue eyes gazed out of the smudgy glass window pane of the yellow bus, and about an inch away, a pair of ears ignored the aggravating and discouraging laughter of a girl and a boy so candidly and foolishly in love. What did Arnold and Lila know about love? All they knew were dense and dull biases about romance and relationships. About unpretentiously holding hands and maybe sparking up a buzzing flirtation in the pits of their stomachs. It was as fleeting as water in a scorching drought.

One last person stepped into the bus and placed their change in the deposit before the doors closed. The vehicle made an assortment of pressurized noises and metallic squeaks before it started ascending slowly away from the school.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" Phoebe questioned considerately, standing beside the worn bus seat. A teal colored book residing nonchalantly in her left hand.

Helga broke away from her school bus musings and strangely glanced her idle companion. "Phoebe, you're my friend. What's with the twenty one questions lately?"

The black haired girl's pulse spiked with anxiousness and she sat down cautiously next to her lifelong friend. Her palms wrapped around the tiny diary, now in her lap, possibly sweating into the pages. "Just um…trying to be polite…" a crimson color flushed her cheeks in an unbearable manner.

Helga started to search through her backpack that squeezed between her and the hard wall of the bus. She was looking for a nonsensical comic book to read to pass the time. Murmurs of Arnold and Lila's affections could still be faintly heard from the back of the automobile.

Meanwhile, Phoebe's cold panic was making her heart beat swifter by the second. "I wanted to ask you something…_else_."

Helga finally found a slightly torn Wrestlemania comic book and pulled it out of the bag. "Sure."

"Would you um…like to…" She could feel a filmy sweat start to bead above her eyebrows, her throat start to constrict air flow and oxygen.

Helga was about to lick her thumb and flip open up a page, but she turned over to look at her friend who seemed rather inflexible and overwrought at the current moment.

_"Go to the …uh…dance with me this Friday…?"_ There. She said it. Her soul was wide open and immense, which meant any sort of pebble or spec of dirt could've flown in by a mild breeze and shattered her vulnerability. She was irrationally scared and illogically frightened by her friend's response.

Helga paused for a moment at the request and apprehensively closed her comic. Her voice became rather low as her counterpart's inquiry still floated in the space between them. _"Is this because you don't want me to be alone…you don't trust me by myself?"_

Phoebe's worry faded a bit. She shook her head in surprised diligence. "No, no. It's not that at all."

The blonde rolled her eyes and crossed her guarded arms. "Thanks for the offer, Pheebs, but I'm not down for being a third wheel." She responded darkly.

_"I haven't…asked anybody else…to go…"_

Helga made direct eye contact, her arms still somewhat crossed. Phoebe stared back into the cerulean rings that danced in her day dreams, the petite girl looked away. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you have plans. It's um…a dumb dance anyways."

She gradually felt her facial expression change. There was an awkward silence as she bewilderingly gazed out of the bus window again. Her thoughts…somewhat puzzled, but then one of her old amusing ideas popped into her mind. She softly chuckled to herself.

Through her agitated feelings, Phoebe interestingly peered over at her.

_"Okay, well this is really stupid so don't judge me okay?"_ Helga spoke in a hushed tone and her eyes dazzled humorously.

The shorter girl nodded.

The blonde gawkily rubbed the back of her neck as she felt a little of that mean Pataki spirit chip off. "I uh…always sorta…thought it would be fun with someone to….um…dress up like…Tom and Jerry."

Phoebe instantly giggled and covered her jovial mouth. Helga shushed her. _"You tell anyone and I'll pretend I don't know you."_ Her thick black brows furrowed into her eyes gravely.

The love struck girl just let out a heavy sigh and ogled over at her complicated friend through her thick glasses. Her brown eyes dilated; her lips a bit rosier than before, she felt that fret and fear start to dissipate splendidly.

The glaze in Phoebe's entranced eyes seemed familiar to the blonde. Too familiar. But she just couldn't remember where she'd seen it before…

Her cream colored cheeks burned a bright red. "Trust me, I won't…It's very…_endearing_."


End file.
